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Well, today was our follow up appointment with the doctor to figure out what our next step would be. I didn’t have any unrealistic expectations that he would have all the answers for us, but it was a nice fantasy for a moment, that he would open up the increasingly large medical file and say, “and here’s how we’re going to get you a baby.”

Instead, he opened up my almost comically thick and overflowing folder and said, “Well….” The tears came to my eyes right away, but I held them back. Seriously, nothing good ever comes after “well…” It’s never, “well… I love you” or “well… here’s some tacos.” It’s always “well… here’s some bad news.” He said we have four options right now:

1) A fourth round of IVF. Not recommended. Based on the results of the previous 3, he thinks there may be an egg quality issue, aside from the implantation issues, the unicorn uterus, the endometriosis, the ovarian cysts. The odds are not in our favor for success with another round of IVF.

2) Keep trying the normal way. THANKS, SCIENCE.

3) Donor eggs – anonymous or known donor. We can spend 12,000 dollars for a 50-60% chance of getting me pregnant. And no, I did not throw an extra zero in there. Twelve. Thousand. Dollars. For the chance of getting pregnant. I’ll … have to think about that one.

4) Adoption. He didn’t really have any advice on this option, since it’s not what he deals with.

So that’s it. Those are our options. I’d say Number One is flat out off the table. I don’t want to put myself through another cycle of injections and surgical retrieval and bed rest and getting my hopes up OMG MAYBE THIS TIME IT WORKED and then the phone call of “Well….” Number Three doesn’t look too good either. If I’m going to plunk down 12 grand, I want something for my money other than just the chance of getting pregnant.

I don’t know if adoption is right for us. I have this irrational fear that it will be like grammar school. I was not athletic, not coordinated, and pretty damn awkward. Which meant, every spring when our gym class turned into a Softball Tournament, I was always picked dead. last. I mean, if a stray animal had wandered into the gym, it would have a better chance of being selected for a softball team than me. With adoption, you put together a ‘couple profile’ and wait for a birth mother to say, “Yes! Those are the people I trust my unborn child with!” And I have this fear that the birth mothers will look through the profiles and pick everyone else before us.

Which leaves foreign adoption. Spend even more money, travel outside the country for an unknown period of time, and get a child – not a baby – who has the potential for serious medical problems.

So… I’m lost. I’m as lost as my GPS, which likes to tell me that I’m driving in the Chicago River. When I go to my sister’s house in New Lenox, I swear it says “Here Be Monsters” in the general direction of Joliet. (Possibly true?) I have no idea where to go from here. Part of me says forget it, let’s spend what money we have on making a great life for the kid we do have. Part of me isn’t ready to give up on having another kid. All of me is confused. And sad. And tired.

Do you know my friend Genie Miller Gillespie? Her daughters went to school with Maeve at Keller, one a year ahead the other a year behind. She was in Girl Scout leadership with me back when I lived in the Bev too. She’s my fb friend and also in my LinkedIn network. AND…She lives on the same block as the Crowley/Jablonsky family.

She’s an attorney in private practice, in downtown Chicago which focus is adoption. I don’t mean to be a butt-in-ski. But she’s a great person and could be a resource for information.